Shloka 15
Chapter 90
महिष्य ऊचुः कुररि विलपसि त्वं वीत-निद्रा न शेषे स्वपिति जगति रात्र्याम् ईश्वरो गुप्त-बोधः ।
कुररि विलपसि त्वं वीत-निद्रा न शेषे स्वपिति जगति रात्र्याम् ईश्वरो गुप्त-बोधः ।
वयमिव सखि कच्चिद् गाढ-निर्विद्ध-चेता नलिन-नयन-हासोदार-लीलेक्षितेन ॥
mahiṣya ūcuḥ kurari vilapasi tvaṃ vīta-nidrā na śeṣe $ svapiti jagati rātryām īśvaro gupta-bodhaḥ & kurari vilapasi tvaṃ vīta-nidrā na śeṣe $ svapiti jagati rātryām īśvaro gupta-bodhaḥ & vayam iva sakhi kaccid gāḍha-nirviddha-cetā % nalina-nayana-hāsodāra-līlekṣitena //
เหล่ามเหสีทูลว่า: โอ้เจ้านกกุรรี เหตุใดเจ้าจึงคร่ำครวญ ทั้งไร้นิทราและไม่อาจพักได้ ในยามที่โลกหลับใหลยามราตรี และพระผู้เป็นเจ้าทรงบรรทมโดยซ่อนความตื่นรู้ไว้? สหายเอ๋ย เจ้าเองหรือ—ดุจพวกเรา—ถูกทิ่มแทงลึกในดวงใจด้วยสายพระเนตรอันรื่นเล่นและเอื้อเฟื้อ พร้อมรอยยิ้มของพระผู้มีดวงตาดุจดอกบัว
In this chapter the queens of Śrī Kṛṣṇa reveal the intensity of their love in separation. Addressing the kurarī (osprey-like bird known in Sanskrit poetry for its plaintive cry at night), they project their own inner condition onto nature. While ordinary beings become unconscious in sleep, the Lord’s “sleep” is not forced by ignorance; it is His yogic concealment (gupta-bodhaḥ), an aspect of His divine play. The queens’ point is devotional: even when the world seems quiet, their hearts remain awake, stirred by remembrance of Kṛṣṇa’s līlā—especially His affectionate looks and smiles. The verse highlights a classic Bhāgavata theme: the Lord’s beauty and kindness captivate the devotee so completely that mundane comforts—sleep, rest, and ordinary pleasures—lose their hold. Their question to the bird is also a gentle confession: the devotee’s suffering in separation is not despair but the ripened symptom of bhakti, where the mind is “deeply pierced” by Kṛṣṇa’s sweetness (mādhurya). Thus, the shloka teaches that spiritual longing intensifies when one has truly tasted the Lord’s personal grace. The queens model how to transform the world into a reminder of Kṛṣṇa—seeing even a bird’s cry as an echo of divine love.
FAQs
This verse shows that separation can deepen bhakti: the devotee becomes sleepless and inwardly “pierced,” constantly remembering Kṛṣṇa’s affectionate glances and smiles.
They use the bird’s night-cry as a mirror of their own longing, poetically expressing how Kṛṣṇa’s beauty keeps their hearts awake even when the world sleeps.
Turn daily sights and sounds into reminders of Kṛṣṇa, and let remembrance replace distraction—cultivating sincere longing through prayer, japa, and hearing His līlās.